The Picture that Changed My Life
On Sunday, the 6th of July 1968, after having my lunch, I was quite casually reading the book, “Sathyam, Sivam, Sundaram” on the life and mission of Sri Sathya Sai Baba. While reading, I happened to pause for a while—just for a fraction of a second—looking curiously at Baba’s photograph printed in the book.
This single glance at an ordinary photograph of Baba has changed the entire course of my life.
I was not aware, but stirrings from the silent depths of my inner being had very slowly surged up imperceptibly. Mild vibrations, like effervescence, crept through my whole body. Initially I did not recognize or realize what was happening. When the experience or the phenomenon continued for a while, I felt that very quietly a feeling of blissful joy was pervading my being. The bliss was not in the mind but was experienced throughout the body. It was certainly not a thought; it was an experience of my real being. An elevating exhilaration remained during that whole Sunday. For no apparent reason, I was feeling happy and a little pepped‑up. I was, indeed, experiencing a divine bliss, ananda in the real sense. It was the tender note of the Divine‑flute venu‑naad, that drew the jiva [individual] toward the Paramatma [universal soul], as it were, and a communion was established.
Divinity had played upon the murali [flute] of my being. The divine notes arising from some inner depths, the promptings of the satchidananda [being-awareness-bliss], the Lord residing in me, converted me on that day from the very moment of that experience into a “believer”, an astika [an adherent of the Hindu scriptures]. I was no more a non‑believer, which I used to call myself—till that day. I kept on singing merrily, for no reason, with a sort of inner joy, but none in the house came to know what was happening to me.
All the standard arguments that I as a non‑believer had kept repeating for years and years while ridiculing believers in God ceased to exist on that day in a moment, just in a fraction of a second, by a kripa–drishti [compassionate glance] from a photograph in a book. Not that the arguments were answered, but they just ceased to be there. My mind, which was like a barren, arid land with thorny bushes of doubts, was converted instantaneously into a green undulating pasture with a quiet placid pool of blue waters reflecting sheer tranquility and peace. It was like a soothing balm. All the periodical, volcanic eruptions of an argumentative, burning mind of a near‑communist subsided and was quiet forever. No more the hot lava, no more the burning, the ashes of destruction were no more. Instead, I was now blessed to receive fragrant vibhuti [sacred ash] with sublime qualities.
When writing this, while I was trying to collect and recapitulate this experience that I had some 12 years ago, I felt again a little exhilarated. I prepared for myself a cup of tea and burst into that famous song of Meera [16th-century mystic poet and devotee of Krishna]—”Ram Ratan Dhana Payo payoji maine—Ram Ratan Dhana payo—payoji maine” [“I have found, yes, I have found the wealth of the gem of chanting the holy name”]. I sang with the same inner joy that Meera must have experienced, of course, at a much higher level of consciousness, to inspire those immortal divine lyrics. I had entered the realm of Divinity on that day. An inner window had opened somewhere within, which brought in for me the fresh Divine breath of a new life. I was born again on July 6,1968.
As a non‑believer I had heard Baba’s lecture at Ahmedabad only a few months earlier. Explaining the difference between astika [theist] and nastika [atheist], Baba had said, “If the key is kept turned to the left, the lock remains closed, but the moment it is turned to the right, it opens. It is so simple and nobody is a ‘nastika‘ in the real sense.” I was fortunate that the Divine words became true for me so soon. I feel grateful. I also now realize that every soul is bound to awaken or express itself thus, sooner or later. It is a matter of time. Nobody can be a ‘nastika‘ in the ultimate sense.
—Balloo Desai, Vishnupuri, Kanpur
Source: Sanathana Sarathi, May 1981
